


In Your Eyes

by lovely_laurent



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, Modern Era, arthur is depressed, merlin has a criminal record
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-16
Updated: 2017-10-21
Packaged: 2019-01-18 10:49:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12386577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovely_laurent/pseuds/lovely_laurent
Summary: Bored businessman, Arthur Pendragon, shares a magical connection with ex-con Merlin Emrys. The two are countries apart, yet when they focus hard enough, they can see each other's lives through their own eyes.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so this is 100% loosely based on the movie In Your Eyes.

Sometimes, when Merlin would focus hard enough, or bang his head hard enough, he would get glimpses. Of what? He wasn’t sure. But he would get glimpses, of snowy days, of ice skating, and of expensive houses.  
He remembered being in primary school, sitting in class, and all the sudden, his vision went crazy, and then, he wasn’t sitting in class anymore. He was sledding down a hill in the snow. It didn’t make sense to him, and he wasn’t quite sure how to explain that he could see his own reality, and this new reality, at the same time. This new reality flickered, in and out, until suddenly, there was a tree in his path, and he was colliding with it.  
He was thrown from his desk, onto the floor. He let out a cry, and suddenly he could see the entire class turning to stare at him.  
He had no explanation for what happened. Surely, whatever he tried would make him look crazy, so he tried nothing, and said he just simply fell out of his chair. No one questioned him, and he dared not press it any more. Besides, he’d always been clumsy.  
\--  
As an adult, Merlin couldn’t help but get in trouble. It was almost as though trouble found it’s way to him. He blended in with the wrong crowd. He was harmless, mostly, arrested merely for theft and being drunk in public. Occasionally, he’d smoke pot, and everyone enjoyed a beer here and there. Maybe he just liked beer a little too much, a little more than here and there. But he was harmless - never assaulted anyone, never stole anything he didn’t intend on selling to pay for groceries.  
Merlin learned the hard way that judges didn’t care how broke and starving you were, they simply cared whether you committed the crime or not, and in Merlin’s case, he did.  
Merlin was sitting at a bar, lights dim, save for the back bar lighting shining on cheap bottles of vodka and tequila and the tacky neon signs scattered throughout the bar. The place was warm, and he liked warm places, made him forget how cold and wet London really was, especially this time of year. A blond guy with a square jaw and gorgeous brown eyes sat next to him, and the two flirted helplessly. He was exactly Merlin’s type.  
Merlin was a good flirt. In fact, he was very talented at the art of flirtation. He wasn’t shy, not really, and he was always ready to reciprocate the affections of other men. But eventually, something always got in the way. He didn’t know what.  
That’s when Will came in. He slung an arm around Merlin’s shoulder and told the guy he was flirting with, “Move along kid, he’s got a criminal record.”  
That earned an apologetic and rather awkward look from the other guy, followed by him excusing himself to the bathroom. Once he left, Merlin groaned, “Cockblock.”  
“Oh, don’t kid yourself, you weren’t going to fuck him anyway,” Will countered, “At most you’d make out with him in the alleyway.”  
“So? I like kissing. It’s a spiritual experience.”  
“To who?”  
“To me!”  
“Everything is a spiritual experience to you,” Will said, slumping down in the stool next to Merlin.  
“Because everything is spiritual,” Merlin replied, looking at him as though it were obvious. Will just rolled his eyes.

Meanwhile, almost four thousand miles away, in the city of Chicago, Arthur Pendragon was sitting at his desk in a grey, sterile, and boring office building. He had just come back from his lunch break, and was answering calls left and right as they came in. The act was almost robotic, answering calls, telling people exactly what they wanted to hear, and hanging up, only to take on the next call and telling that person what they wanted to hear. In fact, if Arthur was perfectly honest, the job was almost as boring as the office he conducted himself in. It was just as grey, just as sterile. Just as cold.  
The knock on the door threw him off his rhythm. “Come in,” he called, hanging up the phone he was speaking into and looking up to see who was here to bother him.  
“Hello, brother dearest,” said Morgana as she stepped into the room. She was dressed like a gothic receptionist, dark lips and dark hair, dark clothes and dark personality. “I just came in to let you know, our father has asked you to stay late tonight. He assured me you’d be just fine.”  
“Seriously?” he groaned.  
“Seriously,” she replied, “He said that it wasn’t as if you had any wife or children waiting for you. Well, those weren’t his exact words, but it was something to that effect. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I never took my lunch.” Before Arthur could argue, she was turning to head out the office door.  
Arthur let his head fall into his hands. He was tired. How many more late nights followed by early mornings could he take? How much more overtime could he process before his heart popped? He was more than tired, he was exhausted. Physically, mentally. His body ached with lack of sleep, and his mind sluggishly tried to keep up the pace.  
The phone rang once more, and he quickly composed himself and picked up the phone.


	2. Chapter 2

Arthur yawned at his desk when Uther came by. Arthur’s father had just come back from his lunch break, one of which Arthur so graciously declined to take in favor for taking extra calls.

“What, tired?” Uther asked, raising an eyebrow at him.

Arthur frowned, looking for anything to defend him. There was nothing. “No, sir.”

“I’d hope not. We have that party we’re attending tonight. I hope you didn’t forget.”

“No, sir,” Arthur said again. “I’ll be ready by six.”

“Let’s hope you’re actually on time this time around,” Uther said, and stepped away from Arthur’s door.

Arthur ran his fingers through his hair, messing it up so it stuck in every direction. He didn’t need another party. He needed a nap. He needed a good sleep, or maybe a good getaway.

That’s it, a getaway. Surely they had the funds for it, so why hadn’t he ever left the country? Go to the caribbean. Or better yet, run away to the countryside. Become a farmer.

Yeah, that was it.

\--

“How’s the job going, Merlin?” Gaius asked.

Merlin looked up from his beer, a frown pressing on his lips. “Good. I picked up an extra shift last night.”

“I’m proud of you,” he said, though his face said otherwise. His brow was tweaked up like he was looking at Merlin long and hard, and his voice was doubtful and harsh, instead of honest to god proud.

“What?” Merlin asked.

“Oh, nothing,” Gaius shooed him away with his hand.

“No, tell me. What?”

“It’s just --” He shook his head. “You’ve never held a job this long.”

Merlin understood immediately. He understood how Gaius doubted him, how Gaius thought he was going to fuck up eventually, get himself fired and locked back up again. Merlin sighed. He supposed it was only fair for him to be suspicious. He’d been at Merlin’s side through everything -- through his first arrest, through his second arrest, through boyfriends and girlfriends, through jobs (neither of which lasted very long).

In reality, he had every right to doubt Merlin. Merlin hadn’t done much in his life aside from fucking up. In fact, he’d done next to nothing. If he were in Gaius’ shoes, he supposed he’d have his own reservations.

But god, that didn’t make it hurt any less.

\--

Arthur spent a good hour getting ready. His hair was perfectly in place, his teeth shining white, and his shirt perfectly pressed. He chose a blue shirt, Morgana always told him it brought out his eyes. She would know about that kind of thing, she was the most fashion forward in the family.

When he came downstairs to meet his father, he was met with a harsh glare. “You only had all day to get ready,” he snapped. Arthur looked away, down at Morgana, who looked back at him with an apologetic look on her face. “You know how important this party is,” Uther went on, “A lot of important investors will be there.”

“I know, father,” Arthur said quietly.

“Is that what you’re going to wear?” Uther asked. Arthur looked down at himself.

\--

Merlin made his way to the bar, where he found himself under familiar sickly lighting.  He’d been gambling over billiards for the past hour with a young guy named Mordred, who was barely old enough to even be in the bar. But now Merlin’s pockets were empty, and he was in desperate need of a beer.

“Maybe next time, pal,” he said to Mordred, setting down the pool cue.

“Hey, you know better than to give up in a middle of a game,” Mordred said, stepping in closer with a scowl deep on his face.

Will shoved himself in between them both. “Chill out. Can I buy you a beer, Merlin?”

“Please,” he sighed, and followed his friend to the bartop.

“So what’ve you been up to?”

“Oh, you know,” Merlin hummed, “Cleaning cars at the car wash.”

“Well that sounds shitty.” Will said, gesturing to the bartender for two beers. They’re both handed one, and Merlin takes a long sip of his own. “Better work’s coming.”

“What do you mean?”

“There’s tons of businesses going belly up, and there’s warehouses full of stuff, just waiting to be taken.” Merlin was ready to say no, until Will added, “I know you could use the money.”

He digested this. He did need the cash. That much was true. Before he could answer, however, Will was patting him on the arm. “We’ll keep in touch.” And with that, he was off to harass someone else.

Merlin watched after him, torn between wanting to say no and wanting to say yes. He sighed heavily.

\--

The Pendragon’s arrived at the party during the thick of it. The party was a grand house covered in snow, with large windows overlooking the mountains and frozen lakes. Morgana found herself in the company of other women, and Uther found himself in the company of investors. Arthur found himself staying in close to his father, chatting with other men about their wives, who was cheating on who, who should cheat on who, the usual.

A waiter serving wine came up to their small circle, which prompted Arthur to hold up his glass. “Yes, ple--”

But before he could finish, Uther was extending a hand and saying, “No, he’s all set, thank you.”

Arthur looked down at his empty glass before looking back up at the men he was chatting with.

The room felt full. Full of chatter, full of noise, full of music. Was there music playing? He couldn’t remember. He blinked, and tried to focus on what the men around him were saying. That helped, and the noise of music dissipated slowly.

\--

Merlin swallowed a mouthful of beer as he stepped up closer to the beer. He’d been ready to leave his bottle behind and head back home, until a petite dark-haired girl stepped up to him with a big smile.

“Hey, Merlin!”

“Freya,” Merlin’s eyes got wide, not expecting to see her here tonight. If Merlin had to confess his deepest, darkest secret, it would be that he was head over heels for Freya. Not that that was a bad thing, merely that, somehow, all of his awkward moments had come together to happen in front of her, and her alone. It was as if he was destined to make a fool of himself, in front of this one person. Normally, he was smooth and calm, but in front of Freya, all his coolness seemed to go to the moon, leaving him only with awkwardness and shyness.

“Want to buy me a beer?” she asked, offering a toothy smile as payment.

Merlin patted his pockets and gave an embarrassed smile. “Unfortunately I’m all dried up. But--” he scoots his own beer closer in to her. “You can have mine.”

She chuckled and pushed the bottle back at him. “No thanks, I don’t want your cooties.”

Before Merlin could think up some rational, normal thing to say, words were coming up like vomit. “No, I went to a specialist for that.”

Freya tilted her head and looked up at him, a confused stare in her eyes. “What?”

“N-nevermind,” Merlin mumbled. “So, uh, what’ve you been up to?”

“Oh, you know…” she chewed on a toothpick thoughtfully, “The usual.”

_ Fuck, this is awkward, _ Merlin thought to himself.

Suddenly, Freya perked. “Hey! You working?”

_ Fuck _ , Merlin thought again. “Yeah, uh, over at the local… car wash…still.” He looked down in embarrassment.

“Oh,” she said, still smiling, “That’s cool, I guess.”

Freya twirled her toothpick in silence, and Merlin shifted his weight between his feet, trying to think of something, anything, to say to recover. Something smooth, something cool, something he’d say to a random boy he didn’t know the name of, something--

Just as he opened his mouth to speak, Freya opened her own, and they both stopped, and looked at each other.

“I’ll just--”

“Yeah, why don’t we just talk later?” Merlin sighed.

\--

Uther, Arthur, Morgana, and a collection of other people sat and stood in the parlor.

“...First it just started as a fun little hobby,” one guy said, “Who doesn’t enjoy painting here and there?”

“Don’t forget the naked models,” another guy chirped in, causing everyone to erupt in laughter.

“Yes, and the naked models, but anyway, now it’s really become an obsession.”

Suddenly, eyes fell on Arthur, and he sat up a little straighter, a little more proper.

“You know, Arthur, you ought to join me one time. I’m sure you could use a hobby, some time away from the office.”

Arthur just smiled shallowly. “Yeah I--”

And then, as if someone had smacked him on the back with a bat, a sharp pain erupted in Arthur’s body, and the force of some invisible blow pushed him onto the carpet at their feet.

\--

Merlin looked up to see what hit him, only to find Mordred holding a pool cue, shouting about  _ something.  _ Will and a couple of bouncers ushered him away from Merlin, who looked up from his place on the bar floor in confusion.

It was the bartender who helped him up, shouting out at Mordred, “Get out of here, asshole, what kind of business do you think I’m running? Merlin, you alright?”

He dusted himself off as he said, “I didn’t even see him coming.”

“He hit you like a real son of a bitch. How about a beer on the house?” The bartender walked back behind the bar, which drew Merlin’s eyes to Freya, laughing and flirting with another guy.

Merlin sighed. “You know what, I think I’m going to get out of here.”

\--

“Arthur!”

Arthur looked up from the ground, trying to think of what happened, what had hit him. When he looked up, he didn’t see any attacker, he didn’t see anyone with a bat, just thin air where he had been sitting, and a room of people hovering over him with worried expression, and his father, boiling with anger and disgust.

He stood up and dusted himself off. “I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?” the room collectively asked.

“Yeah, I’m sure,” he said, fixing his hair back into place.

\--

When Merlin stepped outside the bar, he could see Will punching Mordred into the side of a car. His nose was bloody, and he was grunting with every punch to the stomach.

Merlin just shook his head. “You made your point, give him a break.”

Will looked up at Merlin, and when he saw that he was serious, stepped away from the bloodied boy. “You’re lucky,” he told him, and vanished back off into the bar.

\--

Uther didn’t speak to Arthur again until they were in the car on the way home. Morgana sat in the front passenger side, sitting as close to the door as she could possibly manage, as if that would somehow evade her from her father’s rage. Arthur sat in the back, twiddling his thumbs and looking out the window anxiously.

“Give me a warning next time you decide to have a spasm like that again,” he spat, looking at Arthur in the rearview mirror.

“It was just a muscle spasm,” he whispered, not wishing to anger his father.

“You put on quite the show for our friends.”

“It hurt like hell,” Arthur tried, hoping to evoke some pity from his father, to get him to realize he didn’t somehow plan for it to happen. “It felt like somebody hit me.”

“I’ll have to write apology letters to everyone in the room,” Uther raged, “Hopefully no rumours start because of this.”

Arthur sat in silence, accepting that his father had no pity or apologeticness to offer him.

Eventually, Uther sighed. “This isn’t the start of another episode, is it?”

Arthur’s head shot up and he looked his father in the mirror. “No.”

God, he hoped it wasn’t. All he needed was another  _ episode _ . Another breakdown. Another reason for Uther to punish him.

God, how he hoped this wasn’t it.


End file.
